Chapter 97

Olivia's face fell instantly. "A scar? Dr. Porter, you're the best surgeon—can't you do something? Dr. Carter has had enough bad luck lately..."

Dr. Porter scowled. "Now you're worried? A doctor who can't even protect herself has no business saving others. That's the first lesson they teach in medical school!"

Evelyn clenched her jaw, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. "The patient was having a stroke. Between a scar and paralysis, I'd choose the scar."

Dr. Porter's hands stilled momentarily.

No one understood the severity of strokes better than he did—one misstep could mean lifelong disability.

The pressure from the antiseptic cotton finally lightened.

After finishing the bandaging, Dr. Porter adjusted his glasses. "If this wound reopens, not even divine intervention will help."

Evelyn nodded obediently. "Understood, Dr. Porter."

"Ahem..." Dr. Porter suddenly lowered his voice. "Be mindful of... martial relations. Tell your husband to exercise restraint..."

Evelyn's ears burned. "...Yes."

In the hallway, Olivia supported her as they walked slowly. "Dr. Carter, why didn't you tell Dr. Porter you're divorced? The way he was tiptoeing around the subject was hilarious—"

Evelyn shot her a look. "Is divorce some badge of honor? Should I broadcast my ex-husband's infidelity over the PA system?"

Olivia stuck out her tongue. "Fair point... Oh! Dr. Wilson!"

Gregory's white coat flashed at the end of the corridor before he appeared before them.

His gaze landed on Evelyn's bandaged arm. "What happened?"

"Emergency during blood draw," she said lightly.

"Treated?"

"Dr. Porter handled it personally."

Gregory's brow relaxed slightly. "Can you walk?"

"Yes."

"No!" Olivia interjected. "Dr. Porter said minimal movement!"

Without another word, Gregory bent and scooped Evelyn into his arms.

She gasped, instinctively clutching his collar.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured.

"I'm not—"

"Then why the scream?"

Evelyn turned her face away. "Too many eyes in a hospital."

Gregory chuckled. "If rumors spread, I'll explain."

"How?"

"As..." He paused. "Colleagues?"

Evelyn shook her head. "Colleagues don't stand this close."

"Then friends?"

"Dr. Wilson," she met his gaze squarely, "friends don't confess in karaoke bars."

His arms tightened. "So we can't even be friends?"

"I don't do blurred lines." She pushed against his chest. "Put me down."

Instead of releasing her, Gregory adjusted his hold, lifting her higher.

"Then let's not be friends," he said softly. "I never wanted to be—"

"What are you doing?!"